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Kvetch in the City - The Real Supply Chain Crisis

I went to Target thinking I might find a menorah to bring to my son since I am going to visit him for Chanukah this year and thought it would be nice for him to have his own Menorah for his new place in Manhattan.

When I turned down the aisle towards the section that holds holiday decorations, pretty much all things Christmas, with a few Chanukah decor items thrown in, I was confused. Disoriented was more like it, since the aisles looked like they’d already been ransacked, as if everyone ran to Target and cleaned them out.

I saw two Target employees coming towards me and I asked where the menorahs were. The young guy looked at me crosseyed which made me realize he had no idea what a menorah was. I started to explain to him what a menorah was when the other more savvy Target employee chimed in and directed me back to another part of the store I had just come from. I asked why the shelves in the holiday section looked bare. He replied, “You know, the supply chain crisis.”

Turns out, menorahs in Target are not the only thing affected by the supply chain crisis. How about my dating life? How about eligible single men who are interested in women of a certain age? Huh? What shelf are they on? Are they locked up in some shipping container marked dating material, sitting on some dock, waiting to be unloaded for all the woman over 50 hoping there’s something left. There’s definitely a dating supply chain crisis happening here. My dating life shelf has been empty for years.

I can tell you it’s not for lack of being open. Astonishingly, a week and a half before my surgery, out of the blue, I got asked out by a very eligible, age appropriate man in the community from solid family lineage. The date had to be postponed due to his knee being out, and my needing a new hip. Right there I thought…perfect…at least we are both falling apart at the same time.

Post surgery, once I was on the mend, he said he’d like to cook for me. I was ecstatic! He had me at, “He could cook.” Well, to make, what turns out to be a very short story, long, I pulled myself together though I could still barely tie my shoe post surgery, and arrived at his house, sexy cane in hand, enthusiastic about what I thought would be an evening with potential. We chatted for over three hours, and to my amazement and utter disappointment, he never once asked me one question about myself the entire evening. I began to wonder why he invited me at all since he clearly did not want to get to know anything about me. At one point I asked him why, out of the blue, he contacted me to “hang out” in the first place. He paused for a moment, then said, his mother was reading my column, and suggested it. Well that instantly and totally endeared me to his mother. We both had a laugh. Ultimately, it was apparent to me, his mother was more interested in me than he was. I made a comment that he may end up in my Kvetch column as I remember Dear Esther mentioning don’t talk about people in your column unless they know. He said he was okay with that. So here it is. Ultimately, to my dismay, just another empty shelf in my middle aged dating life supply chain crisis.

So while I have no crystal ball to see an end in site to the holiday items and eligible men dilemma, a Chanukah miracle did occur and I lucked out at the Gordon JCC Chanukah shop and found my son a menorah left over from last year. Who knows, maybe some other miracles are still in store.


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